His Rebellious Lass (Scottish Hearts 1)

The dinner came to an end, and with the ball beginning shortly, Lady Banfield passed on the usual custom of the women having tea in the drawing room, so both the men and women left the dining area to gather in the ballroom.

Davenport headed in Bridget’s direction, and Cam followed. As far as he knew this was the first time he’d approached her since the house party had begun. He was thankful he’d warned Bridget about Davenport’s interest, or she might have spat in his face right there in their hosts’ ballroom.

“Good evening, my dear. Don’t you look lovely?” Even the sound of his voice set Cam’s teeth on edge.

“My lord.” Bridget executed a barely acceptable curtsy, which Davenport seemed not to notice, since he smiled brightly at her.

Bridget glanced at Cam, but he shook his head slightly. If they did things his way, he would destroy Davenport much better than anything Bridget could do.

“I would be most honored if you stand up with me.” He leaned in closer, and Bridget eased back.

Instead of answering him, she stuck her arm out with the small white card and pencil dangling from her wrist. “No waltz, please. They have already been promised.”

“How unfortunate.” He took the pencil and wrote his name next to a cotillion.

“If you will excuse me, my lord, I see Lady Banfield is searching for me.” Bridget hurried off before Davenport could notice that Lady Banfield was deep in conversation with Mrs. Breakstone and not searching for anyone.

“I would like to arrange an interview when we return to London, Campbell. I want to get this proposal moving.”

Yes, time to kill another wife.

Cam attempted a smile, which he was sure came out more like the distaste he felt. “Excellent.” He slapped Davenport on the back, almost sending him to the floor. “Bring around your financial records Tuesday next. Say, ten o’clock. I will have my man of business and solicitor with me.”

“Yes, indeed.” He moved closer to Cam. “I understand the chit comes with a bit of blunt herself.”

Bloody hell, he wanted to punch the man in the jaw. But this was a better way. When he was through with Davenport, he would have to leave London, possibly even England, in disgrace.

“I will discuss my ward’s financial situation during our interview. Now if you will excuse me, I believe the music is about to begin, and I must fetch Lady Bridget for our dance.”

As he turned to walk away, Davenport grabbed his arm. “I’m a little concerned about your attachment to my future wife. I don’t want to be marrying the gel and find out she’s already in a family way. You know what I mean?”

If he weren’t so determined—now more than ever—to ruin Davenport, he would drag the cretin outside and pummel him until there was nothing left but scraps. Instead, Cam took a deep breath and yanked his arm free. “No need to worry, Davenport.”

He stalked off in Bridget’s direction. Rather than a dance, what he needed was a round of boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s.

“What is wrong?” Bridget asked. Cam took her hand and walked her to the dance floor as the music began.

“Davenport.”

“I saw you speaking with him. What did he say that upset you?”

He looked down at her upturned face, and something very strange happened to his insides. Even though it was all a farce, the mere thought of the likes of Davenport putting his hands on Bridget in any way at all, but especially in bed, brought out a protectiveness he’d never felt before. This was not good.

“It truly doesn’t matter what Davenport says. Nothing uttered from his despicable mouth is worth noting.” He moved them into a turn and pulled her closer to avoid crashing into another couple. He didn’t release her. It felt too good having her in his arms, so close to his body.

The sweet smell of lemon and lavender drifted from her hair. She was warm, soft, and all woman. Too much of a prize for her to accept just anyone. He must be exceedingly careful of the men who wished to pay her court.

/> “I think after we return to London, we should view the second property my man of business found for your women.”

Bridget grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Yes. That would be wonderful. I do want to proceed with the purchase of a building. It will most likely take some time to make it habitable. I fear some of the women who would benefit from it might be dead by their husbands’ hands before we can harbor them.”

“We shall leave early in the morning and reach London after dinnertime. I will dispatch a note to Dunston first thing the following morning and a note to you on the day and time for our perusal of the property.”

When the dance ended, Cam took Bridget’s hand and placed it on his arm. “I think a stroll about the gardens would be nice. I find it is quite warm in here.”

“Yes. A very good idea.”

What wasn’t a good idea was walking away from the main garden area and stepping up into the gazebo, hidden among a copse of trees. They sat side by side, enjoying the cool night air.